


Deep Breath

by buttzer



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Action, Also like gross humor??, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Language, I promise I will write real plot eventually, Implied Relationships, Its also cute too, Love, Multi, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Some Plot, but it’s funny, so much love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttzer/pseuds/buttzer
Summary: All work and no play doesn’t seem to be working for U.N.C.L.E’s trio. Some well needed alone time is required to relieve the stress. All Gaby can think about are her partners. It seems great minds think alike.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin/Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo/Gaby Teller, Napoleon Solo/Gaby Teller
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> hi! im buttzer, and this is my first ever fan fiction. (im usually not that big a fan of writing so we’ll see how this goes, fingers crossed!) ive been a fan of tmfu ever since the movie came out and now enjoy reading other people’s fanfics as well. hopefully people will enjoy my first work and let me know what you think!

### 

Efficiency and precision has always been an important thing to Gaby. But her thoughts had been interfering with her day to day life more often than she had liked.

She often daydreamed, while agents droned on about paperwork or combat to her, of fidgeting with the gears of a car in her workshop. She was the boss there. Do what she pleased. The longing rarely went away for the feel of cold metal in her hands as she cured vehicles’ ailments. She missed it dearly. 

But she missed something else too. She wondered if _they_ missed it.

Their fingers brushing through her hair. Those eyes, bright and bracing, staring deep into her. Hot breath against the nape of her neck. Hands moving up her ...

“In the catwalks.” Illya’s voice buzzed through the headphones Gaby wore and snapped her back to attention. Her cheeks flushed and shook the indecent thoughts out of her head. She knew he couldn’t see her but nonetheless, she was embarrassed. “Good. Target in sight?” Gaby asked as she fixed some of the dials on the communicator so she could hear them more clearly.

Their mission: locate the president of BLISS, a weasel of a man running a drug trafficking organization, and capture him by any means necessary. They found the grand warehouse that the president was enjoying his time at for the night with booming sounds of a party inside. The plan fell into place just as it should; Napoleon had broken into the building without any flaws, as per usual, with Illya as his personal shadow and Gaby as their eyes outside the facility. She stretched her legs as she sat on the hood of the Jeep at the top of a tall hill, overlooking the buildings of the city.

Beneath them, the partygoers drank and smoked to their heart's content. A band played loudly, making it even harder for the trio to hear each other. Illya’s eyes searched the crowds of people for their target and finally spotted him. The snivelly man had a lady attached on each arm, drinking heavily while surrounded with matching suited men.

“One guard at each exit. Five bodyguards are around him. They are close to the door.” Illya whispered.

“These earpieces are ridiculous.” Napoleon mumbled, flicking at the cord around his ear. Illya grunted in annoyance as they crept carefully on the walkways above the party.

“Once we get this guy, you can take it off. Trust me, I don’t like them either.” Gaby said with an amused smile on her lips after hearing the boys bicker at each other. She wondered if they still thought about her. Ever since the agency found the trio, they have been handing them one mission after another. The three of them haven’t had the chance to relax. Not since Italy. “At least we can communicate instead of being in the dark- Wait.” she stopped.

Napoleon and Illya stilled, turned and locked eyes. “Gaby?” Napoleon breathed her name into the mouthpiece. “Report.” he whispered. They looked down in time to see the bodyguards steering the president toward the farthest exit from them.

Gaby peered through the binoculars, her long lashes brushing against the glass. “There’s a helicopter.” she finally stated. Her breath hitched “It’s going to land on the top of the building. He’s going to try to escape! Get him now!” she declared.

In that instant, the men took action.

“I’ll take top!” Illya said, spotting the staircase leading to an exit. He turned on his heel and bolted toward it, gun in hand. Running down the rickety stairs, Illya stumbled over his own feet and hopped down the last steps to the door. Kicking the door open, he found a hallway of more stairs, leading to the ground floor and roof.

“I’ll take bottom.” Napoleon said and found a pile of rigging wires. He made quick work of securing them to the railing and tossing them over. The American swung over and slid down, landing within a few yards of the target. His cat-like grace was always something to witness, even amazing the partygoers. Three bodyguards pushed the president through the door while the other two lifted their guns toward the approaching spy. “He’s coming to you, Peril.” Napoleon blurted as he ripped a tablecloth off the nearest table with a spin and tossed it onto the bodyguards, disorienting them.

Illya peeked out from the thin door frame to see the president running ahead with three bodyguards following close behind. When the time was right, he sprinted through the doorway and collided with all four of them. With sheer force, he slammed all of his weight into them. 

He pinned the three guards down with his large body as the president squirmed out from under them, pulling himself up some of the stairs. The Russian hollered when one guard managed to break free from under him and pinned back his left arm, twisting it until it made a terrible cracking noise. Illya’s eyes darkened as he slammed his head back into the guard’s, knocking him out. He snatched his gun off the ground and shot the two under him then slowly stood. Illya looked up with a grimace and shot the president’s leg before he could reach the next step. The little worm of a man yelled out in pain. 

Illya huffed and trudged up the stairs. He grabbed the back of the perpetrator's shirt and propped him up against the wall to face him. His eyes widened and yelled into the earpiece “The president isn’t with them!”

“What?!” Napoleon exclaimed as he pushed the guards covered by the tablecloth into the band, causing screams from the audience and people to run in panic. He ran for the exit door to the hallway, looking up to see a pile of bodies and Illya at the top of it all. He ran up the stairs two at a time, finding the “president” whimpering on the steps. _A decoy! Shit!_

He looked up at Illya who gripped his shoulder and winced. “What happened?” Napoleon asked quickly with concern, moving up next to him.

“Can you put a shoulder back into place?” Illya asked as they hurried up the stairs together.

“Yes, of course.” Napoleon said.

“Good. But we finish this first.” Illya huffed.

“Gaby! Illya is hurt! Can you hear me?” Napoleon asked holding down on the earpiece and clutching his gun. “Gaby!” he repeated.

_This part here and that one there._

Fingers fumbling and shaking.

_Breathe._

Illya and Napoleon busted through the door onto the roof just as the helicopter was landing. There were more guards than they thought. Each turned toward them, snapping their guns up into position. 

The spies thought just for a moment … could this be it?

But then ... 

The glass of the helicopter’s windshield shattered! Glittering in the cold night air and sprinkling onto the rooftop. The actual president scrambled out after seeing the controls and steering mechanisms smoking and blown to bits.

_Breathe._

Three more whistling shots took out the bodyguards in front of the duo. The president shook as he stared at the astonished spies in front of him, mouth quivering and knees looking like they were about to give out.

BANG!

One last shot, perfectly in between the president's legs. A smoking hole at his feet. He collapsed in front of the two, begging and pleading to let him live.

The American and Russian’s chests heaved as they gazed upon the wreckage then stared at each other blankly. It was … over?

“You two are so lucky to have me.” Gaby’s voice cut through the silence, making the two of them jump. She giggled as she watched them through the scope of her still smoking sniper rifle. 

Slinging the gun over her shoulder, she stood and rested her hand on her hip, “I’ll pick you up behind the warehouse as quick as I can. Waverly is sending in backup to pick the president up now. Over and out.” she said then took off the headset and jumped in the driver’s seat.

Napoleon wished he could see her right now. Probably basking in her glory, he thought. Illya clutched his aching arm and looked out across the darkscape to see the shadowy outline of the hill where the Jeep started to drive down. 

“Черт,” Illya huffed. “That woman is insane.” Illya grumbled as Napoleon approached, telling him to prepare himself for the relocation of his shoulder.

Napoleon smiled, “Yeah, but she just saved our asses, Peril. So you know she’s the craziest of them all.” 

###### 

Handing off the whimpering president to the back spies Waverly sent, their eyes landed on a fast approaching vehicle. 

Seeing her was enough to make Illya’s heartbeat quicken, even after running down all those steep stairs. He didn’t think it _could_ go any faster after Napoleon helped him pop his shoulder back into place. 

Her dark hair flew in the wind as the Jeep swerved to a stop in front of the warehouse’s backdoor they emerged from.

Gaby’s eyes widened at the sight of them. “Are you two okay? Is Illya alright?” she called to them, worry creeping into her voice. 

“I’m okay. Just sore, do not worry.” Illya said walking to the car and climbing carefully into the backseat, tucking his long legs in. 

Napoleon swung himself into the passenger's seat. “Yeah, it’s not my first time fixing a dislocated shoulder.” he said.

Gaby’s mouth opened, looking at them. Illya slapped Napoleon on the shoulder, getting a "Ow!" from the front seat.

But then her face darkened, her eyes looking as though she wanted to find the person who did this to him and do some terrible things to them.

“I’m fine! I promise, Gaby.” Illya assured her. 

She looked back at him for a brief moment then nodded. She revved the engine causing the men to quickly put on their seatbelts. Her foot slammed on the gas, their Jeep tearing off into the night. 

Illya swore under his breath as he hung on for dear life as she raced through the streets.

“So … what do we think? Another semi successful mission?” Napoleon asked, tilting his head to the side. That finally made Gaby crack a smile. Her laugh ringing sweetly through their ears. Napoleon smiled, his hand reaching out, stroking her knee gently with his thumb.

The sudden pang of jealousy hit Illya like a freight train. He understood it was out of comforting her but … After all this time, did they still think the same way about each other? About _him?_

All he wanted to do was be with Gaby for a moment. Especially after what she had done for them tonight. For _him_ tonight. She deserved to be praised for her actions, he had to thank her. He would make it up to her, he promised himself that.

_Don’t be a coward, Kuryakin._


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napoleon tells Illya to basically grow a pair and talk to Gaby, ya know cuz Illya is a shy boy ... also some other stuff happens which I guess you’ll just have to read and find out.

### 

It was 12:37 A.M. when they reached their hotel. The trio separated to their rooms, the boys in one and Gaby in another. Each felt it unnecessary of the agency to pay for two small rooms when they could all share a large one. Either way, being confined caused Illya to pace.

He rubbed his sore shoulder. It had started to feel better on the drive over, but the ache was still very much present. His arm swinging ever so slightly as he paced, sent a tingly pang up his arm.

“Would you stop that? You’re making me dizzy.” Napoleon groaned from his chair as he held a cold glass of whiskey to his forehead.

Illya continued and nibbled on the tip of his thumb. Maybe she didn’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the night? She looked quite tired. He could always talk to her tomorrow morning, plus it was already late at night. But then the moment could be gone. He wanted to see her but how could he do that without being too pushy?

“Peril. What’s the problem? We completed the mission, there’s nothing to worry about.” Napoleon sighed, resting his head back against the cushioned chair.

“I’m not worried about anything.” Illya spoke, tapping his foot impatiently as he stopped for a moment. He glared at Napoleon, pointing a long finger at him “And there is no problem.” He began to pace again.

An incredulous snort came from Napoleon’s nose as he took a sip of his drink.

_Go up to her room. Knock on the door and thank her. Make it brief. It’s easy. You will not be a coward. Do it._

“Illya. Just talk to her.”

He stopped mid stride. He was uncertain if he had said it out loud, at first. But then he saw Napoleon’s eyebrows quirk up at him. “Excuse me?” Illya asked, his eyes darkening. It wasn’t obvious what he was thinking about. Was it?

Napoleon took another sip, smiling behind his glass “Gaby. You want to talk to Gaby. Thank her for today, but you don’t know if you could, right?” he inquired.

The Russian blinked at him and furrowed his brows. _Damn Cowboy._

He set his drink down and crossed his legs elegantly, despite his rugged appearance from the mission. He always had to keep his lavish personality up for anyone to see. “Listen, I want to talk to her just as much as you do-”

“Oh, I’m sure _you_ do.” Illya broke in.

Napoleon looked like he was just slapped “What does that mean?” he asked.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you.” 

“See me doing what?”

“The way you were looking at her. Touching her.” Illya snarled, his fists tightening. If this Cowboy wanted a fight he definitely would give it to him.

Napoleon looked him up and down, studying him. Then smirked that charming smirk as he stood. He moved to the larger man in a few steps and leaned in, sliding his nimble fingers down his muscled forearm to Illya’s tense hand. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed it ever so lightly.

“If you were jealous of her,” Napoleon murmured, his gray-blue eyes rising to meet those icy ones. “You could have said so.”

Illya’s face ignited. Even though all three of them were technically _together_ he was still not completely used to being with a man yet. Especially someone like Napoleon. He does enjoy it, yes, but he would never admit that to either of them. 

“I … I’m not jealous. Of her, that is.” Illya said moving his hand away from the other man’s curved lips. He looked away from him and sighed “We haven’t been together since Rome. What if … What if she’s lost interest? Of me. Of _us._ ” he wondered aloud.

At that, Napoleon bit back a laugh and grinned. “You’re joking, right?” he smiled.

“I don’t see what is funny.” Illya said flatly.

“Listen to me. Just talk to her, take your time.” Napoleon urged him by grabbing his good shoulder and stepping over to the door with him. “I’ll meet you up there.” he said with a wink.

“W-Wait, meet? What are you …? Cowboy, what are you going to do-” Illya protested just as Napoleon pushed him out and slammed the door behind him. He swore under his breath. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked over to the elevator. 

_Talk to her._

Shuffling his feet, he moved to the doors and pressed the button, secretly hoping the lift would break down to spare the embarrassing display he was about to put forth.

DING!

He stepped inside, pressing the button for the next floor, and waited. Tapping his finger nervously against the inside of his forearm, Illya listened to the sound of the elevator sliding up, thinking. 

_Just thank her for today._

The lift stopped and opened the doors.

_Compliment her. Be brave._

Marched down the narrow hallway. 

205, 207, 209 ...

Before he knew it, he was in front of her door. Illya stared at the shining gold 211 on the door, his reflection glinting off the numbers. He could see his panicked look in them. Licking his lips and swallowing the lump in his throat, he knocked three times. 

_Deep breath._

###### 

It seemed like forever that he waited. His hands flexing into fists nervously then relaxing, over and over again. He almost turned to leave when he heard a soft shuffling behind the door and the sound of the lock being slid out of place. 

A flustered Gaby peeked ever so slightly out behind the door frame. Her eyes softened, immediately opening the door wider when she saw the outline of Illya. She couldn’t misplace a body of that size or stature. 

Illya’s breath hitched when he noticed what Gaby was wearing. She stood in the doorway, only in a fluffy, white bathrobe provided by the hotel. Feet bare, her small toes curled from the cool temperature of the hallway. The bright color of the robe contrasted with the darkness of her hair and eyes. Her skin looked dewy and shining in the light from the hallway. And her lips … 

“Uh … I … um,” Illya stammered as he gazed down at her, he could feel his cheeks start to burn. “I- I should go. You look busy.” 

“Hm? Oh! Sorry,” Gaby said looking down at herself and tightened the sash around her waist. “I just got out of the bath.” she admitted, thumb pointing back in the direction of the bathroom. 

Illya gulped and clasped his shaky hands firmly behind his back, looking everywhere but at her. 

“Are you okay? How does your arm feel?” she asked, big eyes watching his face to make sure he wasn’t lying. 

“Oh, um it's sore. But is fine. See?” he said moving it slowly for her. She nodded, finally knowing he was telling the truth. Her eyes went back up to his face and searching for more answers though. 

“Need something? Or did you just come up to say, ‘hi’?” Gaby mused as she leaned against the doorway with a smile. 

“Uh … sort of.” Illya mumbled. 

Gaby giggled softly. Illya loved the sound of her laugh, she rarely had a genuine one but hearing this one lightened him up a little. She proceeded to ask, “What is it?” 

He forced himself to look back to her face. Finding her warm brown eyes helped him relax so he focused on them. “I … wanted to thank you.” he said quietly. Gaby’s eyes flickered with surprise at his words. 

“What you did today … was something most people could never imagine doing. Both Napoleon and I were in awe. Having you on our team … you are …" he rambled then stopped and sighed. "What I’m trying to say is, thank you” he stated, biting his lip. “For helping us complete the mission. For saving us. For everything.” 

Gaby blinked and opened her mouth to reply then closed it, realizing she didn’t know what to say. To think, Illya Kuryakin, The Red Peril, was at _her_ door to acknowledge her accomplishments. She chuckled at the thought and hung her head, hair falling across her face. 

“You know,” she finally said. “I was actually terrified.” Illya’s mouth hardened into a line as he listened. 

“After what Napoleon said about you being hurt, I was so worried about you. Both of you.” She said. “I thought to myself, ‘If I miss … they’ll be dead.’ The thought kept coming into my head over and over and over.” she whispered, hugging her arms tightly to her chest. 

Wait. She was worried about them? About _him_? Illya couldn’t believe what she was saying. 

And yet, he could. 

This little woman is just as strong as he is, he knew that for a fact, but he also knew she couldn’t push everything down all the time. She was better at hiding her feelings than him. 

But not this time. She was human, after all. 

A large hand moved under her chin, lifting tenderly while the other tucked a curl slowly behind her ear. She gazed up at Illya’s softened face, lips parting slowly. Leaning closer and cupping her rounded cheek, he noticed freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose along with small tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I … I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you two.” she breathed softly. 

His gaze fell upon her small mouth, thumb rubbing gently against her bottom lip as he moved closer. Her arms snaked up, wrapping around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes to finally meet him in a kiss. 

It’s soft, delicate. Their lips caressing against one another's in a long awaited reunion. One hand brushing through her long, curly hair and the other holding her tiny waist, just like she remembered. But this time it was better. She shuddered at his touch, wanting herself closer to him. They both had to pull back to catch their breath. 

“I’ve missed you.” Gaby whispered. 

But she wanted more. She had the feeling he did too. 

Gaby met his lips, more aggressive this time, hungrier. Nibbling at his bottom lip, causing him to moan ever so quietly. At that, Illya replicated her ferocity, pushing his tongue into her mouth, meeting hers. She whimpered against his lips, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. 

Separating from their heated kiss and pressing her forehead against his, she backed into her hotel room; urging him inside. Her body hit a wall. She pulled him in close, tilting her head to the side giving the access Illya wanted to press warm kisses along her neck. She bit her lip, revelling in the sensation of his mouth. She had to grip onto his massive biceps to keep herself steady. 

All of Illya's irrational thoughts flew right out of his mind. All he could think about now was her. Holding her like this is all that he longed for. It was worth the wait. 

He breathed in her sweet scent as he held her body against his. The light smell of flowers from the soap she used drifted from her skin. His fingers moved along her neck, slowly moving the bathrobe off one shoulder and proceeded to kiss down her collarbone. 

Hands wandering further down her body to hold her hips, beginning to grind against her. 

She drew in a sharp breath, marveling at the friction, back arching. She could feel his erection growing against her thigh. Moaning softly into his ear only made the process faster, she found. Reaching between their grinding bodies, she began gently palming him through his trousers. 

“Ебать,” Illya swore and huffed against her neck, his hands bracing against the wall above her. 

Gaby smiled softly at her triumph. She loosened the sash of her robe with her free hand, allowing the top to fall open, exposing her breasts. Illya groaned at the sight, hips involuntarily thrusting up into her hand. He could feel himself getting harder by the second. 

“You know,” a voice quipped behind Illya, making him and Gaby jump. They both leaned around each other, startled to see Napoleon, reclining nonchalantly in the doorway holding a bottle of champagne and 3 glasses with the biggest smirk on his face. 

“If you’re going to do something like _this_ , you should probably close the door first.” 


	3. Viewing Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Gaby’s time to shine and she is gonna shine bright, baby. Also Napoleon is just the worst, but isn’t he always?

### 

“Jesus, Napoleon! I almost had a heart attack!” Gaby squeaked as she covered herself quickly and peeked over Illya’s shoulder, glaring at him.

Napoleon smirked as he stepped in, swinging the door closed behind him with his foot “What? I thought Peril told you I was coming.” he said, walking past them casually and setting the champagne glasses down on the small coffee table. “Although. Considering the circumstances,” he said, glancing at them with a smile. “I doubt it.”

Gaby swung her head up, only to see Illya’s face, beet red and mortified. Whether it was out of embarrassment, anger, or a bit of both she couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It looked as though his soul left his body right then and there.

POP!

Making them jump, once again, Napoleon opened the champagne bottle and proceeded to pour a bubbling glass. He set the bottle down and turned to them, holding the glass high as though he was toasting them. Nodded in their direction and took a sip.

Gaby held in a laugh and watched Napoleon meander around the coffee table to the small couch. “What on earth are you doing?” she asked, her hands touching Illya’s chest, trying to calm him down.

“Me?” Napoleon asked, pointing at himself as he sat, resting his crossed legs on the tabletop. “Watching.” he smiled.

This caused Gaby to blush now. He wanted to _watch_? That was a first for her. Of course, she had never been with two partners before them either.

_There’s always a first for everything._

Looking up again, Illya’s eyes were clamped shut, his breathing came out in short bursts. She could tell he was starting to shut down. Gaby slid her hands up to his cheeks, shushing him. He swallowed harshly.

“Shhh … it’ll be alright. If you want to stop, just tell me.”

Her words rang in his ears. He didn’t want to stop, he was certain of that. It was only that his mind was like a tornado, unable to stop all of the thoughts rushing through. 

Could he really do this with Napoleon watching? When it was just him and Gaby he could at least push down the butterflies in his stomach. With him here. He thought for sure he would suffocate.

But ever since he met her, he always felt that she produced such a relaxing aura around him. The way she could eliminate his stresses so easily would continue to fascinate him. He cracked his eyes open to see her wonderful face. 

Those warm, glinting eyes took his breath away. She could always bring him down to earth again. 

He pressed his cheek deeper into her hand, turning to press a kiss into her palm. He then looked to Napoleon. His face was understanding and kind. Illya knew from that look he felt the same way as Gaby. They never wanted to push him into anything he didn’t want to do. And he greatly appreciated that.

“I … I want to keep going. I do.” Illya croaked, cheeks rising in color again. 

Both Gaby and Napoleon smiled then. Happy to know their partner was comfortable.

She lifted herself to her toes to hug her arms around his neck in a hug. Illya’s arms tightened around her waist, bending slightly to do the same. Gaby kissed his cheek generously. 

Lips inching close to his ear, she whispered, “Then let’s give him something to watch.”

Illya groaned softly. She really was too good to him.

Once their bodies divided again, Gaby untied the robe’s sash. Allowing it to fall all the way open and land at her feet. This time, both men were in awe of her body. 

Eyes dwelled on her small but perky breasts. From Napoleon’s point of view, he could see the curve of her gorgeous bottom. He chuckled softly to himself. 

And from Illya’s view, the arch of her small, toned stomach leading downward to a small patch of curls. His hands reached to her, almost instinctively. Fingers exploring her skin.

Hands moving over her soft body, she shivered at his touch. Her neck, shoulders, breasts, waist … he didn’t want to stop. He stepped closer, head bending to mouth relentless kisses to her neck. Gaby turned her head with a happy sigh, allowing him better access but also allowed her to get a better view of Napoleon. 

His arms were splayed wide across the back of the couch, drink held lazily in one hand. An obvious bulge beginning to protrude from his pants. That didn’t seem to bother him though. He looked as though he took pride in it. 

The reaction time of his hard-on was definitely fast, she thought looking him over. Napoleon oozed confidence, especially in the bedroom. His eyes bore into her. Taking notice to every move she made in their partner’s grasp. She knew for certain he would keep a mental note of whatever action brought the best sounds out of her to save for later. 

The feeling of Illya’s hands moving to the swell of her ass and squeezing ever so sweetly brought her back to him, a moan escaping from her lips. 

At that, she felt his cock twitch against her hip. 

Her mouth quirked up. The thoughts flooding through her mind were fueled completely by desire.

She kissed along his stubbled jawline, moving her hands down his chest and waist while trailing kisses back up to his lips. “Take your belt off.” she murmured. 

His mouth parted for a moment against hers then reached shakily to his waist. His hands fumbled with the buckle and leather, Gaby steadied them with her light touch. He unbuckled the belt, pulling it out from the loops and dropping it to the floor. 

Illya’s head spun as he watched her unfasten his trousers. She looked up at him. Searching for affirmation. 

How could he not say yes? 

He merely nodded. Worried if he said anything it would come out as a strangled, incoherent sound.

She smiled softly, planting a quick kiss on his lips then continued to pull the zipper down. Separating the front of his pants, the outline of his cock was apparent. 

Long and throbbing. 

Gaby’s mouth watered. 

Resting high against his pelvis, she wondered how he even managed to fit it into his pants.  
She bit her lip to hold back a moan then slipped her fingers into the hem of his undergarments. Pulling them down in one swoop granted the long awaited relief his cock had been looking for. 

Top-heavy and large, Illya’s cock sprung free and fell directly in front of Gaby’s stomach.

All she and Napoleon could do was gasp, which only made Illya’s face flush brighter.

Astonished by the sheer size and weight of it, Gaby stared. She admired the shape of it; thick and flared at the tip then narrowing to the base. Precome began to pearl, the tip sitting just below her navel. 

Despite being extremely tempted by his enormous cock, she reached to his body first. Touching his exposed abdomen, tracing the muscles with her fingers slowly. She could see part of a faint scar peeking out from under his shirt. Pressing her hand to it drew a hiss from his lips.

Illya’s heart hammered in his chest. His breath quickening to see her slim fingers trail down … painstakingly slow … to finally slide along his length. 

His voice cracked as the sensation shot through him in an instant. Body bent forward, forehead on her shoulder, and hands clinging at her arms; he shuddered. Cock barely fitting in her hand, Gaby stroked him ever so slowly and whispered sweet words into his ear. 

She knew how sensitive his body would be at first so she had to play with him carefully.

Napoleon stared in amazement at Gaby’s precision. It was like he was watching a trainer tame a wild beast. Her soothing actions, kind but firm handling; he was starstruck. A chop shop girl had to be good with her hands, he thought, lifting his drink to his lips. 

And he knew she was. 

The mere thought of it made him adjust himself.

Illya’s hot breath heated her skin as she pumped her hand, moving quicker. She kissed his cheek between strokes, eyes drifting down to his large member in her grasp. Working him consistently kept pleasant sounds coming from his lips. And squeezing only caused him to rut into her hand more. Precome dripping into her palm. 

_Mein gott._ She couldn’t take it anymore.

She slid to her knees.

Napoleon ‘oohed’ in excitement. He was on the edge of his seat, literally _and_ figuratively. 

Illya’s eyes widened “Gaby.” he shuddered.

Holding under his shaft, she took him into her mouth. Sucking and swirling at his tip. Illya slammed his hands against the wall, cursing roughly in Russian. He gasped as she took him further, thrusting his hips involuntarily into her mouth. She held onto his quivering thighs, humming as her mouth moved up and down.

The corners of her mouth curved up as she pulled off him slowly with a slurp. Her hand still working him near the base. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and stared up at him. Chest heaving, hair a mess, and bright eyes blown wide with desire.

What a sight.

She flicked her tongue at the tip with a devious smile. His hand tore away from the wall to desperately tangle his fingers into her hair.

“Ебать,” Illya swore frantically. “Gaby, _please._ ”

She brought her mouth back to his cock, his hand urging her deeper. Gaby's eyes close but only slightly.

Hips canting forward to meet the back of her throat, Illya groaned loudly. His body bent forward with each thrust. 

Then he pulls back suddenly. 

Gaby gasps, catching her breath as Illya squeezed the base of his cock in his hand, teeth gritting. 

She opens her mouth. Wanting him, _needing him._

He ushered it back to her lips quickly, choking out a hearty cry as he came.  
She caught most of it on her tongue. A few spurts fall low. Landing low on her chest, dripping onto her collarbone and breasts. 

She swallowed.

Illya pressed his damp forehead to the wall, cheeks bright red and panting heavily. Holding lightly onto his cock, Gaby smeared the remaining come against her lips and licked it off enticingly. He groaned watching her lewd display.

His cock was still hard in her grip.

Napoleon whistled and smirked “Damn, Peril. Look at the mess you made.”

“You’re one to talk, Solo.” Gaby quipped, eyebrow raising. 

A small dark spot was noticeable on the front of his pants. Napoleon blushed and ran a hand through his hair chuckling. “Well, you did put on quite a good show.” he said and set his drink down.

She stood up, kissed a now dazed Illya and smiled. Moving out from under his big arms, she sauntered over to Napoleon.

Eyes watching her hips sway as she straddled his. She grabbed his shirt collar and smashed her lips against his. She was fired up now. He liked that. His hands caressing her breasts and tongue exploring her mouth, leaving her breathless. Gaby gasped softly.

“What else can that tongue do?” she panted.

Napoleon smirked that signature smirk then swept her up into his arms as he stood. He would gladly show her.


	4. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solo has a silver tongue but, of course, Gaby knows that already. She quickly finds out the other uses it has. On a scale of 1 to 10, she’d give it ... well let’s just say it’s high.

###### 

Gaby giggled in surprise as she held onto Napoleon’s wide shoulders, carrying her over to Illya. It looked like he finally peeled himself from the wall, barely recovered. 

They each kissed him. The blush crept up from his neck to his cheeks again.

Gaby took his hand. Napoleon led them to the bed. Her eyebrows perking up to see Illya’s erection bob as he followed close behind. She hid her smirk behind Napoleon’s shoulder but Illya knew she was staring and blushed anyway. Napoleon set her down on the edge of the bed and kissed her.

The bed was soft. A fluffy white comforter on top pulled back to show matching silky sheets underneath. It was the kind of mattress your body would sink into. Big enough to hold two but they could make it work.

Gaby slid her hands across the sheets and sighed softly. 

Two men all to herself, what a dream, she thought. Then another thought came into her mind, making her blush.

“Hey, umm ... You two should take off your clothes, too. I feel weird being the only one completely naked.” she said, knees drawing up slightly.

Napoleon looked down at himself then over to Illya. “Well, Peril is already part-way there.” he smirked.

Illya’s eyes stared daggers into him. 

Napoleon chuckled as he began to unbutton his shirt. Gaby smiled, watching them.

“Ooh, want me to do a little dance, too?” Napoleon asked, wiggling his hips.

“Yes, please.” Gaby giggled.

“Please, do not.” Illya said, taking his shoes and pants all the way off. Seeing him in just his black turtleneck made Gaby smile even bigger.

Napoleon scoffed “No fun.” he said. He took off his shirt, dropping it to the floor. His muscles contracted, making Gaby’s eyes linger on him. 

Napoleon took notice, smiling as he removed his belt nice and slow with his nimble fingers. He looped his thumbs in the top part of his pants and pulled them off along with his underwear in one motion.

Gaby hummed in satisfaction of seeing Napoleon’s cock after so long. It wasn’t as long as Illya’s but it’s girth was definitely wider, which she loved. Pale pink was the best way Gaby could describe it. He was already dripping from her performance, it took all of her might to not immediately lick it up.

Illya huffed as he pulled his shirt off and folded it before setting it down. They both were scarred, Gaby thought, not one more than the other. A bullet hole here, a knife cut there; they each had so many. 

Her eyes travelled down to both of their cocks, trying to hide her smirk but failing miserably.

"You know, I really _have_ missed this." Gaby sighed happily.

She flopped back onto the plush bed. Tan body and dark hair canvassed across the bleached blankets as she gazed up at them. “Come here.” she enticed, eyelashes fluttering softly and with that she spread her legs.

They each flew toward her instantly. 

Hungry and wanting.

Napoleon took action, crawling in between her legs, grabbing her thighs and pulling her closer to him.

Illya followed, laying next to Gaby and leaned down to kiss her deeply. She moaned softly against his firm lips as he moved his hands along her chest.

She gasped at the feel of a small pain shoot up from her inner thigh. Napoleon hummed to himself as he playfully bit along her skin.

Illya grunted distastefully at him, making quick work to kiss down Gaby’s neck to her breasts. His bright eyes, lazily blinking up at her as he began sucking on one of her nipples. Gaby yelped, cheeks reddening as Illya’s tongue flicked against her sensitive skin.

Napoleon sighed contentedly, as he watched them. The way those two looked whenever they were together reminded him of a painting; The Kiss by Gustav Klimt. 

The large, gentle hands of the man caressing the small, fair woman. Only to bring her close for a beautifully passionate kiss. 

Could he really ask for more?

His hands swept across her squeezable thighs as he kissed closer and closer to her beautiful pussy. 

Napoleon remembered the first time he had seen her like this, it had taken his breath away. Her sex, a light tan like the rest of her gorgeous skin, responded to all of his and Illya’s actions. Her folds were small and soft against his fingers as he touched her gently. 

The anticipation was killing Gaby and he could tell, she was already so wet. She wriggled in Illya’s arms, desperate for Napoleon’s mouth. 

He would give her what she wanted but not until he was done teasing her. Napoleon lifted his hand to Gaby’s mouth, wiggling his fingers. “Suck, please.” he uttered.

Her eyes lit up and took hold of his wrist. She brought his nimble fingers into her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucking and licking them, knowing what wonderful things Napoleon would do to her. She couldn’t help herself to moan at the thoughts running through her head.

Gaby felt his hand retreat from her grasp slightly. Opening her eyes to see them both staring at her, wide eyed. 

“ _Shit_ , Peril, how did you survive this woman’s mouth?” Napoleon asked, watching Gaby flick her tongue at the tips of his fingers. 

Illya only blushed as he went back to kissing her neck softly.

A cry of annoyance came from her as Napoleon pulled his hand back. Illya kissed her instead to try to keep her satisfied. Which it did.

Napoleon spread his now slick fingers against her folds slowly, moving his thumb up to her clit and rubbing gently. Gaby whined softly at the touch. Illya kissed her cheeks, whispering loving words into her ear. Napoleon smiled, teasing around her entrance then slipped a finger inside. 

Gaby gasped softly, holding Illya close to her. The American moved his fingers ever so slowly inside her, drawing out a lovely noise from her lips. The warm tingle of want started to well up in her stomach. 

Napoleon nipped along her thigh, kissing over the tender spots as he added a second finger. He pulled both all the way out then slipped them back in again. She could feel herself falling under Napoleon’s spell, but he was dragging her down but at a horribly steady pace. 

Gaby wanted more. _Now._

“Napoleon, stop teasing,” she sighed against Illya’s neck, tipping her hips up toward his face. “Give me your mouth, like you promised.”

“Tsk, tsk. I never promised that, Miss Teller.” Napoleon chided, curling his fingers inside her. 

Gaby swore, back arching slightly with a moan. “But, I believe you have endured quite enough to deserve this.” he said, pulling his fingers out.

Napoleon hooked his arms under the back of her knees, pulling her up so her legs were over his shoulders. He gripped her supple thighs in his warm hands and with his tongue flat, he licks up her pretty little cunt. Gaby nearly bucks him off with a loud cry of surprise but Napoleon holds tight as he laps his tongue up and down her sex.

“You’re too rough with her, Cowboy.” Illya judged, but was met with a small hand pressed to his chest. 

“No, n-no he isn’t. He just surprised me, that’s all.” Gaby murmured. Her hand moved down his abdomen and took his half hard cock into her hand, pumping slowly. Illya hissed at the sudden sensation. “If I wanted rough, I’d ask for it.” she said kissing his jawline.

Her other hand inched down to Napoleon, grasping his dark locks in her fingers. She moaned, rolling her hips against his face, using his tongue how _she_ wanted.

Napoleon groaned in pleasure at the sight of her dominance, even when she was supposed to be submitting. 

_God, she is one hell of a woman._

He slid his tongue up to circle her clit, causing her to shudder in both his and Illya’s grasps. Flicking at the nub continuously made her gasp for more, nails digging into his scalp while her other hand stroked Illya’s cock faster. 

Napoleon could tell she was close. He moved one arm out from under her to slip one of his fingers back in while sucking her clit.

“Napoleon! Ah, _fuck_ … yes! Keep going,” she breathed.

He curled his finger inside her, thrusting it in and out. Tongue never ceasing. Eyes watching her every move.

Her entire body became rigid as she came, teeth clenched. Toes curling against Napoleon’s shoulder blades. Fingers searching for something through his curls.

Then the shaking rolled over her like a tidal wave. She gasped at her release, squeezing Illya’s cock just enough to make him groan.

Napoleon pulled back and licked his lips. “How was that?” he asked. She nodded with a satisfied grunt.

“I feel like I’ve got something right … here?” he said pointing, a cocky smile plastered all over his face along with her come. 

Gaby finally opened her eyes and looked down at him, trying not to laugh. 

Illya, once again, groaned but this time from their humor. 

Napoleon chuckled, kissing her thigh once more before sitting up on the bed and wiping his face.

"Solo, come here." Gaby ushered. 

He crawled forward, lying on her other side. He draped an arm over her, kissing her sweetly.

"It's your turn, Napoleon."

"My turn? How sweet of you."

"Mm. Not from me."

" … _Oh?_ "

His eyes swept over her body to their partner's. Chest lifting up and down, golden patches of curls spattered across them. Muscles clenching. A large hand resting against Gaby's abdomen.

Eyes meeting. Napoleon's lips parted from Gaby's. Hand creeping down to touch Illya's fingertips.

"Care for a taste, Kuryakin?"


End file.
